


Catch Me When I Fall

by 9293kjd



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, M/M, Minor Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9293kjd/pseuds/9293kjd
Summary: Jongin’s fighting a war he’s expected to lose. Through the alpha prince that now owns him, his forgotten burdens, and the promise that rests upon on his shoulders, Jongin rises to power as his heart falls elsewhere.





	1. Prologue

Pelts of snow build with passing time. His breath labored, fingers chilled. He wipes his sleeve against the tip of his nose when he starts to tire. His grasp on the sword shakes for a single moment and he castrates himself over the flaw. In another world, his opponent would have turned the tides. This man is beat down too far to think.

Jongin steps away, controls the shake of his breath. His best general’s leering on his elbows from the ground. He’s about to tell Jongin to finish the job, but the man simply returns his sword to its sheath.

In that moment, matching the speed of his previous fall, the general knocks Jongin off his feet. It’s a low growl he’s met with when the snow pockets his drop.

“You’re distracted.” The general says.

“It doesn’t usually snow this time of year.” Jongin muses, pleased. The pretty crystals fall atop his cheek. He palms the ground to feel it more, the icy chill. He listens for the hymn of his breath, his body to calm with the breeze.

“Your journey may exhaust you.” The general grates.

Jongin knows. “It’s a shame I will not have you with me.”

“I have troops to lead. A mate to court.”

“You do indeed.”

He wishes he could stay there forever, in that moment. The barracks silent, where he is tired yet delighted, facing the doors of winter as an alpha. His final moments as a proper successor. The weather wins in the end, because his skin starts to prickle. He pulls off the ground with a sigh, brushing the coalesced specs of nature off the sigma on his chest.

“You are a fine warrior.” The general assures. Jongin turns his back to face the kingdom. “These barracks raised you, and to our barracks you may return.”

The general says his goodbyes kin warriors do, because traditions flourish here, between men. Between  _alphas_.

Perhaps he could return one day. Could have, at least. But he knows the law, standing here as an  _omega_  is punishable by death. So he merely shakes his head. “I wish you luck in courting that mate, general.”

It’s calm, practiced. Jongin has no right to direct his anger towards this man, and it is not the time to lose footing. His strides are long and calculated, gracefully intact.

“Goodbye your highness.” He hears, this time from a friend, and his composure almost breaks.

 

* * *

 

As everything in Kodei, his journey is calculated. From a curse, affairs are built.

‘The omegaen prince may serve a purpose after all,’ he hears members of the court say. His servant blushes a crimson red, like she’s scandalized.

Jongin simply shakes his head – meaning he doesn’t want her to interfere. Things hadn’t always been this way. He was the favored successor of the throne, after all. His country expected an alpha to rise in his presentation, but somehow, horridly, Jongin presented omega. It’s humiliating.

He comes from a strong, amazing lineage. Everyone was so sure he would be an alpha, he was so sure. Sure enough to be raised in the barracks, between real men and pretentious warriors. Behind the greatest generals and aiding in the roughest battles. When time passed, and he reached the peak of his puberty without presentation, they believed their assumptions to be true more so. Jongin was granted a seat in court, given reign to national affairs. His brother was the crown prince, but no successor has ever held the promise Jongin owns.

At sixteen, he was acting as head of the throne. And now, two years later, the world around him plummets and he is an omega. Jongin resents the laws, hates the barriers of hierarchy, despises the court, and it’s only been three weeks since his secondary gender revealed itself.

This journey is not for him. It’s for the kingdom he’s starting to loathe, the world that is being stripped from the sheer coat of his skin. Jongin is a prince before all. He is calm, smart, and like his kingdom, Kim Jongin is calculated.

The men being hosted in his ballroom are not. They’re of another world completely, and Jongin watches them like a predator watches its prey. He sees fake smiles, compiled bows, but feels the rough aura they carry around with them. Jongin’s eyes follow the tall man with fiery red hair. His scabbard is empty, where his sword should be and it would be easy to take him on because he’s been annihilating alcohol since they came.

“You look at my men like you’re assessing opponents,  _omega_.” Jongin holds back the twitch in his brow. An amazing, derogatory introduction from a man of stranger lands.

He does not tear his gaze. “Just one that managed to perk my interests.”

“Would you spread your legs for him?” The stranger asks, satisfaction weaved deep into his voice. 

Jongin feels bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He opens his mouth to retort, before his father breaks his view and the words fade away. “Your majesty.”

His father looks past him, to the bastard instead. “Prince Oh,” The king greets. “I see you’ve acquainted yourself with my son.”

Jongin bites back his anger, slowly turning towards the man in question.

This is the prince of Taijou, in all his glory. Dressed in an attire of blues and gold, the emblem of a howling wolf at the heart of his cloth. Jongin wants to bash his skull into the wall beside them.  _Control. Control. Control yourself Jongin._

“Not at all,” the man smirks “We’ve barely made it past introductions.”

“I see.” the King says. Guests are starting to deviate their attention, tune into this conversation. Jongin- Jongin feels betrayal.

“Jongin,” The king once spoke to him with respect – the same tone that is saved for his Generals. “Treat the prince kindly.” Now it’s forward, and hard, like this is a warning. Like Jongin needs one.

“Yes father.” He stills, teeth clenched.  _Why are you speaking to me like I’m nothing?_ He wants to ask.

“Please enjoy the rest of your stay, dear prince. I’m sure Jongin will nurse the ache of your travels.”

“Yes,” the prince laughs. “I’m sure he will.”

The king nods, pleased with the brief exchange, but his attention returns to his son once more. It's quiet but Jongin understands what this gaze means, in the seclusion of their shared moment. He knows how to spot disappointment from his father's beady eyes, and grief is the feeling that numbs him blind. 

The king is ruthless. It's so easy for him to turn his back on the child seeking assurance. Except Jongin has never been treated more than a tool, the only difference is that he's no longer glorified. When his father walks away, Jongin sneers in discontent.  “It seems I cannot grant you the promise of company--“

The prince raises a brow in question.

“-- I feel unwell.”

The stranger reaches out, slim fingers twisting around the short strands of Jongin’s hair. “Perhaps I may send my general to lull your pain.” He mocks, letting go.

Jongin sees red before he’s able to stop himself. He steps forward maliciously, and speaks low enough to censor the unwanted attention. “If you ever decide to touch a string of my hair, or speak with albeit disrespect, then I will see you to permanent bed rest.”

The man's grin is wild, similar to the aura his men emit. His eyes glaze like wild fire, like he wants the omega to make it a promise. “What a doll, my promised mate seems to be.”  

Jongin’s had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cross-posted on aff.   
> Happy reading!


	2. It's only the beginning.

 

His fingers run along the hinge of the book in his lap, his face sour. The sun is about to rise and the castle’s servants will come knocking at his door in minutes. He intends to leave before they do and expects them to frown in unfortunate concession, but it’s nothing he can’t get away with.  
The heels of his boots click through the silence of the halls, and it has always been at times like this that he’s found his answers. Yet today he is met with silence and the sullen world around him seems fitting upon the morning on his journey.

Jongin’s already said his goodbyes with his head held high and as an alpha between his peers. He should be ready.

“Jongin.”

He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes. Jongin calms himself before turning to meet his father with a curt nod. “Have the servants already fetched you?”

“No, they haven’t.” He replies, back straight and feet together because it would be inappropriate otherwise. “Is it a problem that I left my chambers without assistance?”

“Things are going to be different now.” The king says. His eyes look softer than Jongin’s ever seen them but even now, they lack the only thing he seeks. His father walks to the tier of windows, and Jongin knows he’s expected to follow. “I’m sorry I held you to the throne.”

He clears his throat, shakes his head. “Not at all, your majesty.”

But his father’s breath wavers for the first time in eternity. “Before a king, I’m your dad Jongin.”

Jongin feels a foul churn in the pit of his stomach. The king of Kodei is supposed to be some malicious monster, a true alpha. He is a legend among legends, known for being the King of conquerors. It feels wrong to be subjected to this care in such a way, like Jongin is not the warrior that has killed hundreds.

 “No.” Jongin scowls.

He was made an equal on the battlefield when his father raised a hand to punish him. He was entrusted to lead after his father told him to choose between infinite power and a sanctuary for his people. Jongin was made a warrior after getting broken down, day after day, through long nights, without a mother’s touch.

“You raised me to believe that you were my king before you were my father, and I was okay with that for a long time.” Jongin’s fingers tremble but his voice does not shake. He sounds calm and collected but Jongin knows he has every right to go so far. “You were my first general on the battlefield as a soldier, but I have no obligation to forgive you as your son.”    
He steps back with clenched fists at his side.

“Now if you ever thought I was capable as a warrior between alphas, you are going to raise your hand to give me a final salute.” Jongin _needs_ this. He needs it more than he’s needed anything in a long, long time.

He waits for seconds, minutes, hours. It doesn’t take long to lose track of time before he understands his father is not going to move.

“I understand.” He finally spits before turning his back, composure lost and fury spiked.  

It almost tastes bittersweet.

≡

“We’re ready to depart at your orders.”

In all the years Jongin’s spent on the battlefield, he’d never stood between so many flags of red. His senses scream enemy but his mind reminds him to still. He fists the reigns in his hand then waits for orders.

“Very well.” Prince Oh says, “let’s head _home_.”

 _Home._ Not his.

Jongin’s father has made it awfully clear that he no longer has one. Except he’s been on the front lines for such a long time, that it doesn’t actually feel like a blow.

Jongin’s always pictured himself on the throne – because he’s so good at what he does. He used to wander the ballroom parties and think, _this one. I’ll make this omega my mate._

And even if Junmyeon had somehow won the love of their council, Jongin knew he’d have a place.

This journey means change. They’re trying to get rid of his glorification, trying to make it seem like they never treated him more than what he is. Jongin cannot grasp control if he has nothing to do with it.

_They’re afraid of him trying._

The councilmen always said he would be their greatest ruler, that he could be everything his father was not. That Junmyeon never stood a chance. They told him he was unlike any alpha; and now apparently, unlike any omega as well.

He knows the council will stay as neutral as they can in regards to Jongin’s secondary gender. Castle life will die down to diminish the buzz between other countries and to the public, Jongin’s on this trip for a political exchange.

They want him to be the perfect omega and it’s a shame really, that he has other plans.

 

By the time they’ve reached the border, Jongin’s heard his name in the mouths of people enough times to drive him in circles. No one calls him a breeding box or talks about his fertility, but they will soon. His pride, his honor; they’re going to be stripped from the clasps of his hands.

He doesn’t intend on letting that happen.

Unlike his people, the army knows he’s an omega, and they treat him like one to boot. The scornful looks he receives aren’t masked with respect and the lack of freedom is something Jongin’s forgotten about.

 

_“Who gave the omega their dagger?”_

The men laugh and sneer in reply.

He’s an alpha with large hands and broad shoulders. There’s a scar running along the bridge of his nose and his hair is long enough to brush against it every time he moves.

The man isn’t moving now, brisk over the bark of a tree with crossed arms. He’s clearly unhappy Jongin’s holding a weapon.

“It’s mine.” Jongin answers with a frown.

“And why would you have such a thing?”

“Why would I not?”

They’re clearly starting to evoke attention. The alpha releases a wave of pheromones, and looks for Jongin to waver. It happens, but only for a moment. He’s still getting used to the flood of smells he couldn’t reach before his presentation.

“You have all these _men_ to protect you,” The alpha sneers. “You wouldn’t need a dagger you don’t know how to use.”

“Who said I don’t know how to use it?”

Jongin throttles out of his seat with a tap of his fingers against the heel of his boot, calm but obviously bothered.

“You’re insinuating ‘The Great Kodei’ teaches omegas how to handle themselves?”  

He means to say that the alphas in Kodei are incapable of protecting their omegas. Their children. The alpha’s lips curl, wickedly so. He’s trying to gauge a reaction out of Jongin and he seems to understand that it’s working.

“Have they really lost their worth?” He means to say Kodei needs a third party to rule. He’s challenging the subject of his people’s worth through Jongin. “Then again, your father-“

Jongin moves before he’s able to stop himself. His fingers are tight in the collar of the alpha’s shirt. He’s fuming, the man rendered speechless with wood digging hard into his back.

“Say it.” Jongin dares.

The alpha doesn’t.

“Why’d you stop?!” He yells. He’s not usually this hotheaded.

Jongin can smell the sprout of a crowd, can feel eyes on the back of his head. _I’m calm. I’m calm- I’m not doing anything wrong._

Jongin loosens his fist with another push. He starts walking away and he thinks that’ll be the end of it.  The crowd starts to disperse and the voices mingle. _It’s fine,_ he thinks.

He thought.

Jongin feels the sharp pain at his head before he hears a stone pelt his scalp. His ears start to ring and Jongin feels the tension wrap around every bone in his body. He can’t tell what’s worse, the fact that Jongin let his guard down, or that he got a stone thrown to the back of his head.

“Listen you fucking whore; first it’ll be your dagger, then your virginity – and before you know it, you’ll be serving your purpose as a breeder!”

He does throw the first punch – Jongin does start the fight. His teeth are clenched and his fists are tight, and Jongin doesn’t need a dagger for this. All he wants to do it rip the alpha’s head out of its place. It’s frustration that rides off his skin where an omega should be shriveling in fear.

The alpha is on the floor before he has a chance to blink.

Jongin isn’t some pet; isn’t an object. Jongin will not have his dagger lost because of his gender. The second throw of his fist is much harsher than the first. And Jongin follows with consistency.

_Again. Again. Again. Agai-_

His heel slides against fertile soil, body lagging for just a moment before he’s flipped onto his back. The alpha spits blood onto his face. He wraps fingers around Jongin’s neck, forcing him down when Jongin tries to move.

“I’m going to show you—”

The alpha’s opposite hand slides down his chest, to the clasp of his belt.

_“No.”_

“-- how we punish little omegas.”

Jongin blindly bucks his hips. His mind is racing.

He wildly kicks till his knee reaches something hard, then he does it again. When their positions are exchanged, he doesn’t stop.

The alpha only gets another wretch before he’s withering into the floor and Jongin’s rapping at him.  He watches breath leave the male, watches skin bruise and tear. This is not a soldier, will never be one in Jongin’s eyes.

“Enough.” He hears, barely from the subspace of his mind. Jongin doesn’t stop. He will not.

“I said, _enough_!”

This time it’s much louder, clearer. He hates that he’s an omega. That Prince Oh’s command is something his body cannot refute. Jongin’s shoulders rattle because he doesn’t want to stop. It’s not fair, it really isn’t. It’s not fair that he has to keep the chills from crawling down his spine.

His fist stills halfway into another throttle, and his hands shake.

He hates that the alpha’s still alive, chocking on the blood in his mouth. He should have killed him before anyone had a chance to interfere. The man beneath him looks terrified.

Jongin was prepared to take his life, wants to. He would have done this to his own men in the barracks if they dared to commit the same action.

This poor excuse of a soldier reached for his belt.

Two men pull him off, the general gripping at him from behind and a beta unwrapping Jongin’s fingers from the alpha’s clothes.

He flicks his wrist when they help him stand.

Jongin shuns away from their touches. The adrenaline’s still surging through his body – all he can hear is the sound of blood dripping off his fingers. The back of his neck feels sticky too.

“If you don’t get rid of him before sunrise, then I will.” His voice is even. Final.

Jongin’s jaded eyes meet a gaze harsher than his own.

He doesn’t know how he gets to his tent, doesn’t know how he allows himself to sink onto the soft pelts on the floor.

 

Jongin’s world seems like it’s coming to a halt.

≡

It’s the longest time Jongin’s ever needed to have his vision clear. The space looks so much bigger than what he’s used to. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s tired or because he wishes the memories wouldn’t rush back to him so quickly. It takes even longer to realize he’s not the only one in his tent.

They already know he’s awake.

“What do you want?” His voice is even.

“You got a pretty nasty hit to the back of your head. Do you remember?”

He grunts, smells the same beta that helped him stand earlier.

“Should’ve killed him.” Jongin replies.

The general’s there too – along with Prince Oh. The beta drapes over him, blinking large saucers inches away from his face. Jongin grunts again out of spite.

 “Baekhyun.” Prince Oh warns.

The beta moves off with a pout, says “Just making sure he’s conscious.”

Jongin wishes he wasn’t. He throws an arm over his eyes to calm the raging headache. He’s always had a knack for quick healing, but Jongin faces the consequences in form of side effects.

“Can you-” he croaks, “Get out.”  The prince’s stench smells so potent. “Please.”

He can hear the general shuffle.

“I’ll be right outside.” He says, but it isn’t directed at Jongin.

Baekhyun lazily follows in pursuit.

It’s quiet, just that for a long time. If Jongin strains his focus, he can hear the cackles of a fire. He shivers – it’s probably snowing outside.

The voice of cutting edge makes it’s presence just as that. “You’re in my quarters.” He says.

“I figured,” Jongin replies. “It stinks.”

“It was stupid, what you did.” Prince Oh doesn’t spare him formalities.

“I did what should’ve been done.”

“You’re an omega.” He says passively.

Jongin bites his lip, like he wants to refuse the claim. “I’m a soldier first.”

“But he didn’t think you were. His fingers went to your belt.”

 _I know_. Jongin’s humiliated. “Because you haven’t taught your men to keep their hands to themselves?”

Prince Oh replies with a growl. It’s loud and threatening.

Jongin curls into himself when his body naturally reacts.

“It wasn’t fair that you stopped me.” Jongin continues. “I should’ve made an example out of him.”

“I would’ve had to make an example out of you.”

Jongin knows that he means sexual submission. Jongin knows because he feels the swell in his chest. It’s what they do to omegas escorted by the army – he’s done it before. It was okay to do it before.

“you shouldn’t have stopped me.” He says again.

This time it feels like he’s saying it out of despair, because he’s angry Prince Oh was able to.

 

Jongin stays there for a long time, in that position. He doesn’t move through the army’s late dinner nor their early breakfast. Jongin doesn’t care that he’s not in his own tent. He doesn’t care where the other prince is, he’s just content that he isn’t there. 

He feels on edge in the alpha’s tent – like he can’t relax. He likes it when his fingers twitch, elopes in the discomfort for a long time. He knows Baekhyun’s just outside too.

A part of him wants to bolt, just to see if they’ll stop him. He’s upset that he can’t try.

The beta opens the flap of his tent an hour after daybreak. Jongin growls loudly. Baekhyun raises a brow before making his entrance audible anyway.

“Rise and shine man, gotta roll you out of that pelt.”

Jongin hisses again, but he doesn’t snap till long fingers catch his field of vision. Baekhyun quickly shrinks away.

“Shijung’s going to get punished after our return to Taijou.”

_Shijung. The alpha Jongin rattled._

“Under what grounds?” He asks.

“it sucks that you’re smart.” Baekhyun says offhandedly. “For assaulting the prince’s omega.”

“Possession.” Jongin clarifies.

Baekhyun puffs as he watches Jongin with a steady gaze.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Baekhyun says the words like he wants to keep them under his breath. “You’re an omega, so you’ve been mated, shipped off even though you’re a capable warrior. But in council, between nations, and in the eyes of people, you’re a possession.”

“I’m not!” Jongin spits.

“You are on paper.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

His composure feels like it’s about to break.

“It doesn’t matter what you asked for.”

Jongin pulls on the strands of his hair. Baekhyun shrugs through a leave, with a smile just as mischievous as it looks deadly.


	3. Welcome me home.

 

There is nothing harsher than the callouses of wind against his lips. He feels as a pup, chilled and unyielding, not used to the icy cold.

Yet the weather is Jongin, condoning his heart and warping his chest. His men have met a demise, and Jongin is still there – led by the humility of their losses.

There’s still so much blood. _Red. Red. Red._

It’s the taste of ash that clears his mind but the stench of silver is what’s dazing.

Jongin led this attack. Angry.

He did this.

The boy lusters through a step on his wobbling feet.

“Jongin!”

His body aches at the curl. The soiled dagger in his grip slips to the floor before his gaze reaches the alpha’s.

His frown is matched yet Junmyeon looks wary at where Jongin seems very much alive. Junmyeon wraps his arms around the lithe body and the boy’s fingers tremble, eyes water.

He wants to go home. To the barracks, his general. Jongin wishes his dad could make this ugly vision stop.

And Junmyeon can see it all. Junmyeon will shield him away from the effects of this ugly mistake.

Maybe Jongin was never fit to lead, Junmyeon should have managed this attack.

Maybe Jongin should run.

_He wishes he could._

 

≡

 

He rubs exhaustion out of his eyes as the sky mourns through yielding snow. Little flakes dance across the wilted fields and these tiny sleets, little flaws in nature’s dynamic; they seem anything but calm.

“You’re thinking, I’m sure.”

Jongin leans forward when he feels the chill. They’ve secluded him.

“Have you come to fetch me?” He asks.

“I have.” Prince Oh watches in the heap of silence that follows, waits for Jongin to stand. He’s frowning, says, “The sun set hours ago.”

Jongin blinks.

“And?”

“I believe it would be best for you to retire the night.”

_Oh._

Jongin tests the syllables in his head. He’s confused, tired. When you feel solitary in a division, you cannot cause a strife. Jongin is meant to be calculative but he only feels angry.

“Is that for you to decide?”

“Is it not?” Prince Oh asks.

“It isn’t.”

There’s a tap to the look in his eyes, one Jongin has no problem challenging, questioning. Jongin wants to ask why Prince Oh cannot understand.

“Then who gets to decide for you, omega?” _Omega._

They both fed off royalty, have bloomed beneath similar shades. Yet Prince Oh is so believing that they may be different. That Jongin is unfit to demand equality.

“I have always decided for myself.” Jongin pleads for tolerance, empathy. Anything . “That will not change in your hosting.”

“Except I am not your host Prince Kim.” Jongin’s heart rattles. _No._ “If it is not me deciding for you, then it’s you left without a choice.”

His fingers flex and he so wishes for feeble guidance. He might as well be castrating his own odds at survival.

“I cannot, Prince Oh.” Jongin says in vexation. “Not tonight.”

 

≡

 

Their welcome is honorary. It’s still a show for these people, still important to uphold formalities. They all respect him, _what a joke_. Even Jongin can smell omega on himself, distasteful and unsatisfactory. He’s repulsive. The servants tremble in surprise but Jongin breaks away from cognizance.

The palace is now calm, the halls quiet hours after. It feels so crude that he is here, that he should be pliant and waiting.

_What more do they want?_

He rests his palm on the window’s glass. These chambers are supposed to serve as a solace, a sanctuary from this new environment. Instead it feels confining. Chastening and far from his simple tastes.

Jongin frowns at nothing. This is so unlike him. Jongin cannot, will not sit around and wait for an equal to allow him freedom.

Taijou is where he first tastes desperation.

 

With morphing scents, Jongin finds it easy to reach a sanction of trades. He is not a familiar face, not important enough to stop or question. A few children point, elders ogle when the buzz dies down. But the people are everywhere, so present and comfortable in their distributed dynamics. He wanders far into town, following the flow of movement till he sees it all.

_It’s okay._

Jongin weasels his way between the masses until there is no reason to. There’s a crowd, a big one brimmed with anxious clusters. So Jongin finds a place for himself, curious and unknowing. What could rile so many alphas and betas at one time? What shatters an elder into awful stillness?

Jongin’s always fallen victim to the undiscovered.

It’s a podium, he realizes. Battered oak, bloodied yet dry. When he gets closer he spots a boy; hung, bruised, chained. He doesn’t look a day over sixteen.

Jongin’s blood runs cold, his heart beats out of his chest. Then he’s pushing forward till he’s along the front lines.

The child hangs like butchered meat but he is very much alive. Very terrified, very alpha and very scarred.

“ _Please, please, please,”_ The boy begs for leniency, trembles so horridly.

But Jongin hears the whip before he sees it, spots a man - a soldier behind the body. The screech rings in his ears.

Jongin won’t shield his eyes.

 _Again_.

It’s another lurching scream. The body wretches forward.

Jongin knows what corporal punishment looks like. He’s served his time, received such strikes as a man. This is only a child.

The boy sobs like a mantra, begs for it to end. It looks like only the beginning, and it becomes painstakingly obvious that he won’t last.

Jongin halts his breath.

There are rules in the hierarchy of submission. Unspoken yet present and Jongin waits for the soldier to act upon them. His fists are clenched, teeth grit, but he’s quiet for a long time.

_Again._

The man doesn’t stop when he spots the late signs of blood-loss and haze.

_Again._

Jongin scents euphoria, rampant and wild.

_The chains rattle, the boy mute._

He’s been patient for too long.

The pup’s loss of consciousness resonates with the whip meeting bone. Except the alpha does not stop there.

_Lash after lash._

He keeps going, cackles loud and mocking as his weapon cuts through skin.

_Ruthless._

Stop.

Jongin listens to the deadbeat silence, civilians so struck that they don’t move when Jongin cannot watch any longer. His palm meets the tight clasp on harsh material before it may come down again.

Jongin’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. He needs to hurl.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“You’re going to kill him.” Jongin pants, voice hard.

His clutch tightens. The alpha growls.

“So?”

His fingers twitch, legs quake. “Do you get off on dead little boys too, because you sure know how to build a knot to a conscious one.”

His mouth moves in fleet of frustration. He isn’t helping.

The alpha grabs for Jongin’s hair with his free hand, pulls back. And Jongin lets him for show, he yields.

“Is that it you little bitch, you’re jealous?” The man laughs, drops the whip to run his palm along Jongin’s torso. _God._ “Wanna beg for my cock so bad?”

“Enough.” Jongin warns.

“Imma fuck you so hard,” The alpha slurs, “Make an example out of you.”

“Enough.” He repeats. His skin jerks and it takes a moment, two, before he’s curling out of the clasp. Jongin twists the alpha’s arm behind his back. The man is roughly forced into the floor before he yanks on Jongin’s hair again.

_Why?_

The omega forces his knee straight into the alpha’s gut, rough and impudent.

_To a child._

The stranger spits blood before lunging himself with every intention to kill.

_What father would allow his son to suffer in such a way?_

A memory lapses behind the cross of his mind. Jongin steps past a swell of fists, ankle flicks to trip the alpha, turn him as Jongin delivers a rough blow to his face.

_‘Assess your situation, Jongin. You have to gauge the perfect reaction out of him.’_

“You said you were going to fuck me?” He mocks. “You can barely keep up with me.”

The soldier rattles, shudders beneath him. “I’m going to let every alpha here breed you. I’m going to make a slave out of you.”

_‘Humiliate him, turn him against himself.’_

“Is that what you think? That you’ll have a chance?” The alpha kicks back when Jongin tips his head to stare at the child’s nimble body. “You treat your own like livestock.” He spits. “Should I show you what that feels like?”

Jongin edges the defiance in his shoulders, sheds the disgust from his skin so these people know what he’s capable of. He wants them to understand that he could do this to any of them.

He won’t let them ever forget.

It is then he traces the dreadful faction approaching, lacing through the gasping crowd. It is in that position Prince Oh spots him, eyes housing the rage he cannot stand. And it is so threatening, so aggressive that Jongin can scent him from afar.

“What have you done?” Prince Oh is seething. He feels so enraged, like he has a right.

“Jongin,” It's the first time Jongin’s ever heard his name on those wretched lips. He never wants to hear them again.

His chest is met with another. His chin is caught between calloused fingers. He's forced to meet such scowling features as he stands.

“So god help me if you’ve taken judgement upon yourself.”

“I did you a favor.” Jongin sneers. He’s appalled.

Prince Oh leans back, releases him. His harsh breath solidifies in the air.

“Get on your knees.”

Jongin will not.

“Omega.”

“You know my name,” Jongin spits. “Use it.”

The drop is rough, punishing. Jongin’s face meets the floor, Prince Oh’s boot in the cross-field of his vision. His fists clench at his side.

“Apologize to the lord.”

Their positions have reversed and all he can think of is the alpha’s words. Prince Oh has a palm at the back of his head, keeping him docile in his place.

He will not let this pass. Jongin is going to come back to kill the bastard. Jongin is going to coerce every bone out of place.

He’s humiliated one of Prince Oh’s pets and that is why he’s being toyed with.

His head meets the floor again, a dull buzz rattling his skull. So the words stay fresh in his mind, so he understands which man holds the authority. Yet the soldier bows to Prince Oh, says “I did not know _it_ was one of your own.”

“He.” Prince Oh corrects.

“Of course,” The alpha reinforces. “I can see that he is new, you must be having trouble cultivating him.”

Jongin growls, feral and angry.

_I am here. Speak to me._

Prince Oh laughs, loosening his hold on Jongin’s head. “Truly a shame then, the prince of Kodei does not take well to domestication.”

The alpha pales, the crowd halts.

Jongin was not seeking validity from this presentation, he’s long since acquired it.

The prince turns to face him. “Today’s actions will not be repeated.” His tone is unforgiving, a promise that says Jongin will be dealt with soon.

He will enjoy the challenge.

But for now, he is constructing his feat.

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby steps??? it's been a rough month orz.


	4. Let's play (your dirty game).

 

“The boy,” Jongin spits. “What did you do to the boy?”

Jongin’s facing Prince Oh’s emblem one moment, his chest the next. Strong palms push him back, cornering him to the helm of walls. He’s shaking angrily, hoisting himself still to stay calm.

“Does it matter?” Prince Oh asks, “You did this, Kim. This was all a show of your own responsibility.”

“Answer me,” Jongin warns. 

“What is it you want to hear?” The prince asks, growls at Jongin in a manner that’s feral. “You want to know what it is I did?” And it leaves little to an imagination when Jongin wants nothing more than to reach out and snap his neck.

It’s punishing, the ache and pull. If the situation was another, he would have dared the prince to touch him again.

“You want to hear how hard he cried?” Prince Oh mocks. “The words he begged?”

“Son of a bitch-” The retaliation is quick, Jongin pushes back. He will not stand for obscurity. “How dare you?!” He yells when guards scuffle at the door.

Voices call for them simultaneously and Prince Oh silences them in a breath.

“I only carried out the law.” The alpha replies after shifting his focus back to the little prince. He butts heads with Jongin like this is child’s play, knows Jongin can wear his tantrums like gifted skins. “I did what any master would.”

“You killed him?” His throat constricts.

The alpha steps closer, mimicking Jongin’s grip to his collar, studying the buttons of his chest in fermented interest.

“Is that what you would have done?” Bile all but climbs to the tip of his tongue. Prince Oh knows, “I’ve heard of it all. All the things you’ve done to those who wear a uniform.”

When Jongin haggles himself out of the hold, their limbs tangle to the floor. The drop is not righteous and the dunk echoes a loss of expectation. When Jongin blinks, his stomach growls, fingers twitch.

“I did not kill him.” Prince Oh says, “But I did send him home. If he infects his wounds and dies alone, the army will be condoned.” When the alpha moves, Jongin feels something twitch at his thigh. The man sighs when Jongin’s ears color red in disgust. He quietly grunts. “You have quite the temper Prince Kim.”

“You know how to make a man dream of infidelity.”

“What an honor.”

 

≡

 

The pads of his fingers tap against the scruff of his ankle. He’s hunched over his knees, unconsciously drilling holes into the book on his lap. Jongin doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, but the stench of alpha keeps him still. It’s the first he experiences a scent from one. It’s the first Jongin cannot ignore.

So he waits, with every lurch of his stomach and the very frown that’s been marring his features for hours. Jongin waits for something to happen from the scrutiny of his chambers, the guards stationed outside his door.

Patience is not a gift Jongin’s been granted. He is not talented enough to tally the marks behind days and months and years. Jongin has very little time, and much less he’s willing to give towards the noble cause of presentation.

The first he smells is something soft, vanilla and chestnuts, but the second is musky. Like the unscented flowers that grow along crumbling walls and veering cracks in cement, where nature ties to man. He knows Byun Baekhyun from the weeks of travel in a party, knows Oh Sehun for the breath along his neck, firm boot against his head. But neither disturb his peace.

Where Jongin’s been told to still, he continues to wait. Only then he finds the consequences of his actions are different than what he’s adjusted to. 

 

He wakes to a sound loud and sultry, hot in his ears and scorching from his lips. Jongin curls on the couch, it’s too much for him. His breath is hot and heavy, his eyes clenched shut to will it away. He isn’t supposed to start his cycle till much later – till he’s scented, marked. Jongin’s body cannot bear the changes of presentation and heat at the same time, cannot control himself if it’s only weeks apart.

“N-no.”

It isn’t supposed to come now. The cloth slips along his chest and Jongin groans. He claws at the leather of his couch, thrusts at the air in anguished motions, and it’s happening all too quickly for him to realize what he’s doing.

“Prince Kim?”

He tries hard to keep himself still, but composure breaks at the warm slick between his thighs. Jongin’s pants are wet, thighs sticky and quaking. It feels worse than any attraction he’s ever felt.

“No, no, no, no!” The door rattles and Jongin yells, loud and baring. “Stay out!”

“Prince Kim, is everything alright?”

Jongin knows it’s an alpha. Everything from her voice to her scent. Strong and deliberate, Jongin can feel her across the room, behind the door.

The room feels so hot and for the first time in his life, Jongin feels so needy. Dirty.

“Should we call Prince Oh? Or the healer?”

“God, D-don’t!” His voice concedes to a moan before he’s able to catch it.

He hates himself. So much. For the time at the eve of sixteen, gifted a plump omega on the first night of her heat. After his first successful battle, for being taken to a brothel and told to choose. He teased them, for being so desperate and small.

_“Tell me how you’d like me, love. Should I let you down from your high?”_

Jongin refuses to open his eyes, can’t. Not if it means he’s one of them. Jongin can’t be.

He remembers the first omega he’d escorted in his party of twelve. She begged to be taken, claimed, held. Jongin should have had her then, he should have taken her innocence like she asked. She wanted him so bad, despite his uncertainty.

_“I don’t care what you are,” She cried. “Alpha, beta, I don’t care! Just breed me, Prince Kim! Fuck me!”_

What would she have thought now?

He remembers taking so little, a chaste kiss on the first day of summer, delivering her to the curtains of her tent. It felt no different from an exchange of words, what they both felt. Yet on the night of her heat, she begged to be undressed, fucked, breeded.

 

Jongen needs to hold the bile down his throat, the tears at bay. His back arches off the coach once more, his mouth parting at another wave of release. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, tight in his pants. His fingers twitch between the strings and Jongin shivers at the grip.

His body was meant for this, for taking something big and throbbing. His body is waiting, but his mind is not. He cannot accept himself. He so dearly wants to move to his room where he may lock the doors, fill an ice bath to make it end, to the closest alpha to beg as best he could. But he learns that when an alpha manipulates his pheromones, an omega can do nothing but beg and wait.  

Jongin is rough with himself, his cock lubed with his own slick, hard as rock and heavy in his fist.

It’s so bad, so strong that he whines and begs like he’d never even seen an omega do.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fu-“ He feels himself edging between completion but never quite, self-punishing of what he is and not what could have been. His body clenches around nothing, again and again.

“Just- fuck.”

He thinks of rough fingers finding leverage on his hips, settling him onto a cock he’s not sure he can handle. Jongin’s done it before, taken a size, and he quaked all throughout. He doesn’t need to think about it.

 _“So good for me. So fucking good for me.”_ Jongin’s felt those fingers on his skin, at his sides, in his hair. Jongin’s pressed his lips against soft, plump clouds, has been coaxed to comfort with words. _“I’m not going to let you forget the things you feel for me now.”_

He hates that he’s able to remember when he’d been so debouched at the time.

Jongin’s so busy choking on his tongue, so busy bucking into his grip. He rubs himself along everything he’s able to reach, tears of confusion staining his shirt almost as much as the slick’s done to his pants. He’s trying not to orgasm by the mere thought of a broad chest.

“Prince Kim,”

It’s a beta he’s entirely unfamiliar with, pupils dilated and eyes wide. Jongin’s leaning against his shoulder in moments, tugging his member with haste. Anything that’ll make him orgasm is welcome in his chambers now.

“Sit still.”

The prince is flushing pink and pretty against his hold, words inaudible between the moans and tears.

“Please, oh _please_ ,” Jongin’s pushed onto his back. His legs fall open and his cock pops high. Then there are lips against his, pushing hard and eager and just the way Jongin likes it. His hands are above his head, under a firm hold and a seducing grind. He breaks the kiss for a gasp before he’s taking all there is to claim.

The man moves back to place something between his lips, puffing for any air the omega allows him. But it’s not long before he’s over Jongin once more. It’s bitter and textural, pills slipping between his teeth and scratching along the surface of his throat.

“W-what-“

“If you wish to hold off your heat for a few more weeks,” The man explains. “Now, do you think you could come from just my hand?”

 

≡

 

His name is Zhang Yixing, the royal family’s gloried doctor. He’s sweet and calculative in all the wrong ways. Zhang Yixing is a man of short term solutions and long term effects, the type of person prevailing the complexity of nature whilst setting it ablaze. He’s the man that gives Jongin opportunity. Not because he cares, but because the King is meant to return home at dusk and they want Jongin worn thin. 

“I think Prince Oh’s plan went just as he expected.” The beta says, forcing Jongin into a warm bath to avoid a fever.

Jongin nods along but hinders response. The knots in his back slowly unwind whilst Yixing rubs a serum along his skin. There’s an omega tending to him as well, washing his hair with soft scrubs and delicate movements.

Between the men in his barracks and the servants in Kodei, there’s little Jongin feels when he’s bare; these strangers do not reach the exception.

The promise of heat is entirely different. It’s a warning, one that states Jongin’s gotten away with enough. Prince Oh is drawing a line with a threat of his own, one that explicitly reminds him he does not have the advantage. So, Prince Oh knows what game he’s playing and he will not entertain the omega before anyone that matters.

At least Jongin got himself an orgasm out of it.

 


	5. Once upon a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This may be confusing, so dont blink or else you'll miss it. Feel free to cross reference back to chapter 3 to find the twist and lmk what you think :)]  
> fyi. The Alliance is made up of five kingdoms. Taijou is not one of them.  
> Happy reading!

_32 months <_

 “I’ll keep you alive.”

“And why would you want to do that?” Jongin asks, palms flat on his thighs.

There’s a battle waging just outside. Kodei’s most historical battle, and Jongin is here, burning solace into the man that will end it. And the alpha before him holds a gaze colder than anything he’s ever reached. His conscious is clear, his opposition is absolute.

“You already have their attention, young prince.” The alpha pushes off the wall. This is the man who could thread a world between his fingers; Jongin’s caught his attention too. There isn’t a soul he could admire more, isn’t a breath greater he could steal. _“Taijou is the only power that doesn’t stand with The Alliance.”_

Jongin hears a scuffle from the door, two short raps. “Your highness.”

His general kneels behind him, eyes hard on the floor. “Ally Park’s confirmed the detainment of two parties. You don’t have much time, your highness. What are your orders?”

Jongin looks at the stranger then back to his general. It’s too cold, without lurking prey nor hospitalities. They're thirty miles south of Kodei’s boarders, in the only capitol labelled unclaimed. The Alliance could have their way with him now.

“Take the Haneki capital quietly.”

His general stands in refute. “The omega colony-”

It’s too cold.

“Quietly, Kyungsoo.” He says.

Jongin wants his men home before they die from hypothermia. Casualties have grown, their numbers were vast but their leaders are young, inexperienced. His general nods and the door clicks shut as he retreats.

“You want to protect them.” The alpha says, grey creases sympathetic when he smiles. Jongin wants to say he sees the omegas every time he closes his eyes. They plague his sleep, they cloud his thoughts. He will be honest in his battles but cannot watch another omega die. Jongin hates them. He hates them so. “But you need someone to protect you, young prince.”

“What would a man like you gain?” Jongin spits.

“Rest, Prince Kim. I want to leave this world to fitting rulers.”

He refuses the King of Taijou. He doesn’t need anyone’s help.

But Jongin should have known because there is nothing harsher than the callouses of wind against his lips. He feels as a pup, chilled and unyielding, not used to the icy cold.

The weather is Jongin, condoning his heart and warping his chest. His men meet a demise yet Jongin is still there – led by the humility of their losses. They did not take Haneki as they should have.

There’s still so much blood. _Red. Red. Red._

It’s the taste of ash that clears his mind but the stench of silver is what’s dazing.

Jongin led this attack. Angry at Taijou’s King. 

Jongin did this.

The boy lusters through a step on his wobbling feet.

“Jongin!”

His body aches at the curl. The soiled dagger in his grip slips to the floor before his gaze reaches his brother’s.

His frown is matched and Junmyeon looks wary where Jongin seems very much alive. Junmyeon wraps his arms around the lithe body and the boy’s fingers tremble, eyes water.

He wants to go home. To the barracks, his general. Jongin wishes his dad could make this ugly vision stop. Jongin wonders if his father would ever sacrifice so much a second glance his way. Taijou’s king was so different.

And Junmyeon thinks he can see it all. Junmyeon will shield him away from the effects of this ugly mistake.

They lost Haneki, he lost Haneki.

“The Alliance sends their condolences.” Kyungsoo says later, when he is mourning and thinks he is alone. “We will make use of you.” He reads.

“They're dead!” Jongin screams. “Hundreds of people are dead, Kyungsoo!” Jongin tried to save a colony of omegas from enslavement, tried to save them from men like his father, The Alliance. “You can’t win every battle, Jongin.”

He wants to say he could have. The King of Taijou knew.

“Does Junmyeon know?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Only us.” He wants Jongin to know this is only the beginning.

“Only us.” The prince mimics.

Maybe Jongin was never fit to lead, Junmyeon should have managed this attack.

Maybe Jongin should run.

_He wishes he could. He wishes he accepted the hand that granted him a sanctuary._

 

≡

 

Jongin served The Alliance his entire life, Jongin’s suffered and suffered and now he realizes they're not done taking from him. The Alliance thinks they’ll gain Taijou’s power if they give them Kim Jongin.

 

≡

 

His focus blurs twice before he blinks the nausea out of his gaze.

“They're asking for you.”

Byun Baekhyun’s voice is the last thing he wants to hear in his sleep.

“Who?” Jongin feels like there’s cotton stuck in his throat.

“The King and Queen _._ They want to make sure you made it here in one piece.”

Jongin snorts as his head drops. The sun has yet to cross the horizon, his body’s drumming with after effects of whatever Yixing’s given him. He clicks his tongue, rolls beneath his sheets. Jongin treads out of bed.

 

He meets Prince Oh at the gate of the Kings’ chambers. The alpha opens the door for Jongin with a frown and Baekhyun hurdles off to his post. The King smiles as soon as he sees them.

The King is tall, gruff, grey pupils audaciously thrown to catch his gaze. Jongin notes the experience in his motions, his features. The king smells nothing of Oh Sehun, nothing of the natural musk that surrounds his son, yet their composures equate.

“Master Zen,” Jongin starts.

He hasn’t aged a day since he’d last seen him but it’s been years. There’s still sympathy in his gaze and Jongin wishes he could beg it away.

“I’m sorry.” The king says. 

 _For what?_ He wants to ask. He shakes his head instead. “Please don’t.”

The silence beats a moment too long. He’s suffocating. Jongin feels a palm on the small of his back. He doesn’t need Sehun now, he never will. The only person Jongin’s being honest to is himself. This is Prince Oh’s warning.

“Oh my,” The queen stands, “My little boy, look at how well you’ve grown.”

His smile feels strained. “I’m not very little anymore, am I?”

She laughs before coddling his cheeks with a grin. They’ve only ever met in dinners and galas, Jongin hasn’t been to one since he joined the army. “My god, Jongin.”  She whispers.

The King and Queen are both alphas, playing legendary roles in wars before his time. In another world, Jongin would have been theirs but in this one, he is not.

“What do you want?” Prince Oh asks his parents. He’s angry.

 

≡

 

His heart drums against his chest. This isn’t what Jongin wants to feel. He doesn’t want the itch of defiance radiating off his skin. Not when he could reach through a shift in a spineless moment.

He clenches his teeth. It’s so uncomfortable.

“Prince Kim.” His focus snaps from the royal family to their royal watch dog. Park Chanyeol looks too young to be Taijou’s leading general. “Are you alright?” He asks. Jongin spots the wariness beneath his gaze, the strains around his eyes.

Jongin’s caught in a calm before the storm. He feels restless.

The King stands.

“My guests, dear friends.” This gala’s greater than anything Jongin’s ever seen. He wonders how long they've been setting preparations.

Chanyeol steps closer, crowding in silence. He’s protecting Jongin from the scrutiny.

“My return draws no reason for celebration. Tonight, we are here to welcome a prodigy into my family.” The ballroom goes silent, pheromones cake the air. “In a week’s time, my son will take Prince Kim Jongin as his _omega_ ,”

Its suffocating, spiraling.

“They’ve chosen to maintain alienation from the Alliance.”

The crowds scream in delight, councilmen clap.

It’s so loud, so loud. They’re playing with fire.

He catches Sehun’s eyes. Jongin wonders if Prince Oh’s experienced half the things Jongin has. They both have their own agendas, after all.

Only Jongin’s ready for the fall.


	6. Lethargy looks like this.

Jongin watches some of history’s finest minds come together in celebration of their grand announcement. He watches people lie hand in hand as they dance, shoulder to shoulder as they laugh. They’re so happy.

Taijou should be trying to avoid a war, reaching out towards its allies, but the people around him seem so ignorant to the promise of death. Jongin has a hard time believing they just rejected a tie with the five kingdoms.

He picks up a flute whilst a passing server lifts her tray, sips on the contents as he excuses himself. He knows Chanyeol’s watching him till he exchanges his drink once more. Jongin’s gotten good at weaseling himself around prying eyes.

He feels boggled, like there’s this constant flutter in his abdomen. It’s uncomfortable, a slight tug at his insides every time he shifts. Jongin only tunes into conversations that carry enough gossip to filter out lies, never spoken directly to him. It's enough to update himself with the current events in Taijou, few of Kodei and Pama and silenced lands.

He finally finds an escape when he starts to tire, long forgotten by the party’s attendees. Jongin’s almost desperate for a crisp wasp of air and the balcony is mostly empty of patrons so he shifts towards it in lazed movements.

Jongin is easily domesticated by Yixing’s drug tonight, that much becomes clear. His scent is lulled and coated so he doesn't smell so close to heat, just sweet like honeydew.

Jongin’s eyes flicker to the man with a crown on his head. His brooding shoulders hunch as he sighs, intrigued with his own world, so docile and destructive in the worst of ways. It’s difficult to ignore someone with such confidence and power.

Yet it's the first time Prince Oh looks fit to play the role of a successor.

Jongin shits on the soles of his feet for what seems like forever, turns to leave before the alpha’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Come here.” Prince Oh’s voice is not kind but it’s not abusive either, it only sounds rough. Jongin does not move when the man turns with a frown, like a rampant four year old left with no toy to wreck - he idly savors the taste in his mouth.

It’s only been push and pull thus far, one fight after another. They’re handling their relationship as fuel to a fire. And this isn't a fight for dominance or assertion - they're trying to understand each other the only way they know how, so much for civil growth. Jongin wonders if this is an attempt at sanity or the repetition of past experiences.

“When you first escaped the castle, you went out of your way for this fucking kid. Did you see something in him or were you just screwing around?”

Jongin catches on to the person they're talking about as he subtly approaches the former. He hasn't been able to find anything about the child’s whereabouts since the incident but Jongin’s been quiet during his search.

He huffs a breath of cold air as he leans against the concrete, facing Prince Oh’s opposite direction. He has too little connections in the castle’s walls and no one wants to tip off a rampant omega.

“We’re supposed to be protecting the children of our kingdoms. The kid shouldn't have been serving in the first place.”

Like this, the stars look innocent in moonshine’s gleam, unknowing of the perpetrators struggling to survive but to Prince Oh who sees the architecture of his castle, Jongin wonders what he sees.

“Everyone here joins the army of their own will.”

He doesn't know if he should be insulted or interested.

“Playing Soldier Boy’s an adult game. Minors shouldn't have a first pass entrance.”

He ignores the scoff at his side.

“Funny coming from someone who grew up in the barracks.”

Jongin rolls his head to look at the man. It’s only expected when their eyes meet and they're both left to idly stare. “Take it from someone with experience.”

Jongin swallows down the rest of his drink as he looks away. The gaze never leaves him and Jongin wonders what else Prince Oh sees.

“We met in the wrong light.”

That perks his attention, has him suppressing a hiccup as it comes. It takes a moment to realize this is the closest he’s going to get to an apology from the unruly man.

“You’re a little slow on the uptake, aren’t you?” He asks.

Prince Oh holds back a snarl. “You were a fucking fork in the road.”

He'd known from the start after all, the deviation of their plans.

"That’s a pathetic excuse. You could’ve stopped this arrangement at any time, you could still end it now."

The alpha clicks his tongue.

“Don’t flatter yourself, and don’t waste my time.” Prince Oh replies. “You know I couldn’t have ended this arrangement the same way you know I wouldn’t bat a lash to fuck you over.”

“I do know.” Jongin shrugs.

“ I’m telling you I’ll use you for everything you're worth. You have a reputation, connections, people at your side. I will not always be kind, nor conscious. I’ll bend your hand and use those things against you.”

Jongin feels flight crawling beneath his skin, in a buzzing sort of way.

“You’re apologizing in advance." He laughs. They could run circles around the each of these topics, Jongin’s still getting what he wants. “So what will you be gaining?”

The Prince’s black hair sways with the wind. His eyes house a raging fire but for the first time it looks so clear. This man will not allow anything to stand in his way. He reminds Jongin of himself.

“Empathy.”

It's not a lie the same way it's not the full truth, but it's enough to strike a deal.

 

≡

 

He spends the next few days grasping the ropes of Taijou’s hierarchy. There’s little he’s unfamiliar with, satisfactory to the king’s hindsight. Jongin is a diligent, fast learner and he indulges the council’s curiosity wherever he may. He thinks of the child, unfounded thus far, and perhaps this is the result of his own ambition. He doesn't know quite how much he's against the odds.

It’s been hours since Jongin was left to his own devices, swarming the library to continue his studies. His fingers brush along a scroll’s skin when he grasps it in his hands. It's the same one he keeps coming back to, rusty and at least a decade ol-

“Master.”

Jongin whisks his head around to find the very subject of his thoughts. The boy’s pheromones are weak, which is probably why Jongin didn't smell him coming in, but he has a hard time believing the kid’s really there.

The child drops to his knees, head bowed deeply with palms flat on the ground.

““What are you doing?” Jongin asks, shuffling to his feet as he covers the quake in his breath. “Get off the floor.”

“Master-”

“I will not repeat myself.”

He finds that kid’s healed quite nicely in the past few weeks. He should've died from disease, infection. No inexperienced shifter would survive the blood loss. He has potential then.

“What’s your name?” Jongin questions.

“Jinyoung, sir. Bae Jinyoung.”

The boy looks away when he gets caught staring too hard and Jongin’s left a little speechless. There’s really no way this isn't Prince Oh’s doing. He can't tell if he's getting played, or if the alpha’s building blocks Jongin can't reach on his own.

“Are you going to explain yourself?” He asks.

The boy fumbles with his fingers as he sways on his feet. He may have been healing well but his haste’s all too obvious.

“Prince Oh- when his majesty helped me heal my wounds he told me I owed you my life. No one else would have saved me.”

“That's not true.”

“It is.” Jinyoung replies. His ears turn red in embarrassment at the blatant tone. “I begged him to let me serve you and h-he said I was welcome to if you wanted me.”

Jongin chokes on air. No. This wasn't part of their deal. He has no intention of dragging innocent children into this mess. Jongin’s fighting for them and he won't use one in the process.

“I don't have anything worth living for. If you don't take me in then I’ll go back to selling military secrets and stealing from merchants.” The kid says. He’s determined to make a stand no matter how turned off Jongin seems to be.

“You don't know what you're saying.”

“If you planned on tossing me aside then why’d you save me? I was ready to die that day - I wanted to die but you didn't let me, now take responsibility!”

“It's not my job to mother you.” Jongin hisses.

“I’m not telling you to mother me, I’m telling you to use me!”

To hell with his rules, to hell with Taijou and to Kodei. Jongin cannot reach his goals on his own and for the child that looks so lost, there is no one better than Jongin to protect him.

Yet he wishes he could promise a life worth living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beyond thankful for all comments and kudos! Please continue show your support!!!


	7. Tied to you, tied to me.

Sometimes, twisted fate preys on the innocent. Unprotected souls are isolated, entrapped in a world they never asked to breach. It’s dark and silent, quite relative to a child’s subconscious mind, except all decisions here affect thousands of lives. The individuals play with this world’s fortune, never directly alone yet never with an ally either. It has an ugly impact on those it indulges, torturing them forevermore.

And so, nature is not as calm as it seems.

 

The training grounds are vacant. Vacant of noise, of curious onlookers. He’s stalking, pacing in the space he never imagined to regard. Not like this, late at night with no one to stop him. His guards rotate twice in the time he broods but Jinyoung remains his shadow. Jongin continues to stride.

Perhaps he misses the stench of pinewood, of ash and sweat. What once felt like home and all he knew. Jongin’s raveling in his insignificance, sighing at the sky. Eventually, his shoulders sag and his posture falls. Jongin settles in the middle of the field.

He thinks about Prince Oh’s promise of domestication, of how simple it could be to live out the rest of his life as a sullied omega. It’s everything anyone could ask for but nothing Jongin could ever live with.

He’d been granted seven days to mourn and prep himself, but he now realizes that no time could glaze over his pain.

It’s not his body he grieves over, not the memories nor singularity. It’s the exposure to another being, another spotlight Jongin hoped he wouldn’t have to worry about till a long time. When he mates, Jongin will gain all the enemies that already stand against Taijou as well as those that despise Prince Oh. Jongin will have to share his burdens with a man he cannot trust.

There’s thickness in his vision, soreness in his muscles. Jongin’s head is buzzing with thoughts and calculations and his only consolidation is the weather, unsympathetic and frigid.

It starts to snow again.

His focus shifts back to reality as he scents another person’s approach. Jongin doesn’t need to turn back to know Prince Oh’s halted beside him, nor does he need to nod at his attendees whilst they excuse themselves. Jinyoung is the last to leave.

A pelt drops over his shoulders as the fields are cleared. Even like this, their encounters never seem to change.

“If you were going to roll in filth, you should have dressed accordingly.” Prince Oh says.

Jongin barks out a laugh in reply. “I see you take well to cold weather.”

“Slightly,” he confesses. If they’re going to do this then they best do it right. They know what they're getting into, are quite aware of the complications that may arise. Jongin needs to sacrifice more than his sanity to take down the alliance, and a little conversation is the least of it all. “Why did you bring Jinyoung to me?”

“A connection.” Prince Oh shrugs, “He is my first token to you.”

Royals never change when they speak of their people but Prince Oh’s tone is passive, almost meaningless. Jongin looks back in startle, trying to gauge an ounce of humanity from the man’s words. He finds that Sehun’s attention is not completely being spared. The alpha’s gruffly tucking his chin beneath his pelt and staring off into space.

Jongin clicks his tongue as he waits for an explanation.

If it were a nervous tick then he would have caught on the moment Prince Oh approached, but this isn’t what anxiety looks like. Sehun’s gaze is hardened and focused, it’s just not really with Jongin.

“You were quite decorated as a soldier.” Sehun utters. “You had the world at your feet.”

“And?” Jongin asks.

“And now you’re left with nothing.”

“Then we aren’t very different, are we?”

Prince Oh’s gaze flickers, predatory aura suddenly leering in threat. Jongin was simply testing the waters, but it’s satisfactory to know he’s reached a touchy subject.

And everyone knows about Oh Sehun. The stories are not profound rumors or inkling myths, they're bathed in naked truth. Where Jongin’s able to discredit his tales, Prince Oh’s unable to escape from reality.

He almost forgets that Prince Oh’s just as clever as he is.

The man relents his anger back to lifelessness after a single breath. The damage may have been done, but the prince doesn’t breathe a word of it.

“Perhaps not, considering you’ve been sold off at the brink of war.” Jongin hackles through another bitter laugh but the alpha growls. “Don’t act so condescending to assume I don’t know what it is you want.”

“And what would that be?” Jongin hisses, dusting his clothes as he stands.

“The throne.”

Prince Oh looks at him like he understands, except he doesn’t.

Jongin’s breathed in the promise of ruling since he was born, attributed every ounce of his life for the sole purpose of governing. He refuses to believe he is no longer able to fulfill his position because he’s an omega. Jongin’s credited himself with far too much value.

He stays silent, unable to deny the accusations.

Jongin knows that if he were in the opposing position, he’d kill anyone eyeing his crown. It’s not as simple as a desire, it’s a threat. Anyone capable of a challenge could influence the common people. He would rather kill the person making that threat before a tug of power can become fair play.

 

Oh Sehun has other plans. “Let’s strike a deal, omega.”

Jongin feels the bile in his throat, cotton refraining his next breath.

“We’ll do things my way.” The alpha states, eyes lit with deadly terror. “And once it’s all over, the monarchy is yours to rule.”

 

≡

 

Jinyoung knocks on his bedroom door at daybreak.

He calls for Jongin twice before he’s allowed entrance, fumbling and frantic as Jongin peels himself off the mattress. Yixing lets himself in after the alpha and they make haste in taking control of Jongin’s morning routine.

There are people all around him, bathing him one moment and dressing him the next.

Jongin smells Byun Baekhyun down the halls, the omegas making his bed, the alphas situated at his door.

“Your Highness, it should end right after noon.” Jinyoung says. He’s going through the files on Jongin’s desk with intention, probably ogling the ritual’s itinerary.

“Will it be a big ceremony?” Jongin asks.

“Probably the quietest in history.” Baekhyun replies upon his entrance. He bows with curled lips, slight wariness. “We’ve rejected all ambassadors from surrounding monarchies, but our court could not be evaded.”

Jongin winces at the prick on his waist, to which the servant quickly apologizes. They can all smell his oncoming heat. Jongin feels embarrassed by what he cannot control.

His gaze shifts to from Yixing to Baekhyun and back.

“Is it supposed to feel like this?”

“Yes, your reactions are quite natural for an omega at your age.” Yixing nods.

Jongin hisses in rebuttal. “Don’t call me that.”

“Sir?”

“I’m going crazy.” Jongin groans.

Baekhyun sighs before approaching him in steady movement. The beta wards off the two female omegas wounding his robe to do the job himself.

“I recommend you keep yourself wound till after the ceremony.” Baekhyun advises, nodding at the embezzlements on Jongin’s attire before he leans back. Jongin sees the gears turning in the beta’s head, just in case something does go wrong.

He toys with the thought.

“Easier said than done.”

Especially now that he’s already tasted Yixing’s lips, touched his skin and received relief. He wonders how many more times he’ll be facing the humility of a heat before these people.

Yixing does not brace him with the same medication he’s been taking for days and Jongin knows why.

 

 

Park Chanyeol stays two steps behind him at all times, hands busy with flutes of wine as his eyes trail after Jongin every which way he goes. Jinyoung watches from the hall’s far corner and Baekhyun sticks to Prince Oh.

Yixing keeps his distance, but he checks on Jongin through their shared glances.

He makes it through the formalities, tongue sharp whilst he banters in and out of different conversations. Jongin notes important positions whilst people greet him, keeps the important ones in his field of vision for quite some time. No one dares to mention his presentation, at least not yet. Never outright, even if they do toe the line.

Prince Oh looks unlike himself today more than all previous nights. The crown sparkles on his head as he nods, bangs trimmed so he can see from beneath them. He’s dressed in his royal uniform, similar to what he was wearing when they first met.

The ceremony goes as planned in a buzzing sense. It’s all fine, just peachy, till the princes are drawn together to seal the mark.

The first two buttons of their attires are unmade, tugged down to show off their necks. Jongin knows it’s the final lurch of his individuality – at least in the eyes of the church. He feels discomfort in his chest, the heat of his body rise.

“For better or worse.” Prince Oh repeats after the priest.

Jongin mimics, impatient temperament speeding through the process.

He goes in for the first bite, catching the skin of Prince Oh’s neck between his teeth. He sinks into the metallic taste, gash pulsing between his lips as he halts in position. The wakefulness inside him steals his next few breaths and Jongin almost forgets to pull away.

Prince Oh does not pick up on the change. The alpha snickers whilst he draws in for his turn. He nips at Jongin’s jaw before leaning in to pass his mark and it takes one, two moments for Jongin to feel the distraction be rid by pain.

The omega’s body keens into the bite but his mind wavers in alarm. It’s all Jongin’s heard it be, baring and revealing in the of worst ways.

He trembles into the touch, blinking at the chandeliers once it’s all over.

“Just- just a minute.” Jongin winces as the prince leans back.

He cranes his face into the alpha’s neck in attempt to catch his breath, strangled in distress. Jongin hears the thrilled crowds, the King’s roaring laughter and the Queen’s seal of approval. His breath is hot against the alpha’s ear, fingers kneading into the cloth.

The entire hall smells of him and him alone. It stinks of his sex and presentation, and there’s a fuel strangling the rationality out of his head.

Chanyeol and Jinyoung draw in from his sides.

 

≡ ≡

 

The alpha’s gruff pants send jolts of arousal straight to Jongin’s heat. He moans at the sight, unruly prince irritated and attentive with a gaze linked to lust and lust alone.

There are fingers in his hair as he’s drawn in for a kiss, rough and sloppy and Jongin pushes for more.

Prince Oh fists his hold, tugging when the back of Jongin’s knees hit the bed. His chin is drawn forward whilst the kiss is broken and Jongin’s left clenching his teeth.

Then he’s shoved, fall cushioned by the sheets beneath him.

The alpha trails his fingers from Jongin’s chest to his broad shoulders, pressing in all the right places. He lights the fire beneath Jongin’s skin, kisses again like a storm. Their lips mold, mouths open.

If Prince Oh wants to take then Jongin will make him work for it. Even like this, as wrecked as he is. He rolls them over to exchange their positions on the bed, feet touching the floor whilst he keeps Prince Oh in place.

The alpha laughs in rebuttal.

His eyes set ablaze with intent of playing a dirty game. Sehun leans forward to nip at Jongin’s ear, sealing his lips down to Jongin’s neck as he strips the man above him.

Jongin’s immaturity lies in the way he receives, reacts. It’s the heat eluding the noises from his throat, as Prince Oh’s mouth licks his roused skin. It’s frustrating and stimulating, more so when the alpha’s fingers brush against the buds on his chest. Jongin grinds in jagged movements, pushes his hips against the former’s in retaliation.

He feels a scorching fire in his abdomen once his pants drop to the floor, one knee propped against the mattress whilst the other keeps him grounded.

“Even in bed, you aren’t much of an omega.” The alpha mocks, thrusting up against Jongin’s bare skin.

He moans, taking the stimulation in stride. Jongin leans back to touch himself instead of tending to the man beneath him. He traces one hand over his chest whilst the other reaches down to his erection, rubbing his nipple whilst palming his hardened cock.

Jongin’s done this plenty before, pleasured himself in a way which another could not. And Prince Oh takes it as a dare.

The alpha starts with a growl, flipping them again in one quick stride. He mouths at Jongin’s jaw the second he has the omega beneath him and groans at the reaction he receives.

“Or do you just happen to need a bit of convincing?”

Jongin’s speechless, more so when Sehun licks the untouched stud on his chest. The alpha’s fingers are nimble, batting Jongin’s hand away so Jongin’s cock twitches in his grip instead. A simple tug is all it takes for the omega to arch off the sheets.

“Finger me.” Jongin rasps, commanding but not desperate. He’s simply advising, because if the alpha won't please him, then he’ll be sure to pleasure himself.

Like this, without thinking, without coming to terms with what he is, Jongin can breathe. He huffs and pants, lazily thrusting into the grip. He’s earnest, his body holstered in need, but it’s not something Jongin’s willing to show.

“There we are.” Prince Oh teases, drawing Jongin’s focus to the feelings between his legs. His thighs are wet, hole clenching around nothingness, and the prince smirks at his rampant moan.

Prince Oh rounds his finger against the sensitive skin whilst Jongin’s body follows the movement. His other hand continues to tug at Jongin’s cock, keeping the pleasure controlled in their shared space.

Sehun should have known the omega would not still, digging his heels into the mattress with a long grunt.

As soon as the alpha’s index finger slips inside, Jongin’s moving against it. He batters the noise from his throat, reaching out to keep the man above him grounded.

Jongin feels like his body’s been scorched on fire, so lost in boggling pleasure. He’s blinking the stars out of his eyes in no time, and the second finger slips in before Jongin’s able to make further demands. He clenches and Prince Oh veers close, nipping at the claiming mark to elude Jongin further.

His pleasure spikes as the touches hilt a nub inside, and the next moan’s exceptionally louder than the rest. Prince Oh scissors his fingers in the tight heat, taking Jongin apart piece by piece with every press and push.

The omega’s back arches off the bed again, restless and deprived. He’s forced into place just as he thrusts once more.

The alpha’s pupils are blown, his breath just as worn. The movements are aggressive, harsh as Jongin pleads for it. Every kiss, touch, and push. Every trace dishevels Jongin further, bares him more. The prince bites into his omega’s flesh, leaving marks in his trail as the sparks headily spoil Jongin’s hard erection.

The prince is not soft with him, nor would Jongin want him to be. To prove his point, the omega wounds back, allocating a pant from the man above him.

“Fuck,” Jongin cries as the hold around his cock tightens. Sehun moves faster, pulling out of the tight rut before pushing back in. Jongin’s trapped beneath the grip as his eyes squint back the pleasure.

He picks up the pace just as his partner does, cursing and groaning till he comes with a hoarse scream. His high lasts long and Jongin welcomes it readily.

Prince Oh is still put together, untouched and hard in his pants. Yet heat is meant to be a breeding allocation, and even Jongin is no exception to that rule. He isn’t done, sensitive but ready for more.

Jongin quickly finds that the alpha’s gestures have been merciful thus far. The first round was very much like prep and he only moans into his fist once he’s pushed onto all fours, with Sehun’s chest against his back.


End file.
